


we walk it back and patch things up

by castielanderson



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: (attempt), Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Borderline Personality Disorder, Depression, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Self-Harm, but dennis does have a flashback, dennis finally tells mac what happened in north dakota, dennis was in a psych ward, no rape in fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 08:59:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16699432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielanderson/pseuds/castielanderson
Summary: Dennis is on the edge of destroying himself, and he thinks he’s absolutely alone.  He’s just trying to survive, but so is Mac.  They’ve never been this far apart.A reactionary fic to every episode in season thirteen.





	we walk it back and patch things up

**Author's Note:**

> i had too many feelings and questions so i made this. every section corresponds to the episode that matches the number. except i used one of the superbowl eps for the climax. 
> 
> my tumblr is @borderlinedennisr

PROLOGUE.  

 

 

His morning group session ends, and Dennis heaves a sigh of relief as he steps out of the room.  Into the main communal space, Dennis stops at the front desk.

“Did anyone call?”

The nurse on duty sighs.  “No, Mr. Reynolds.  If anyone calls for you, we’ll come get you.”

“Yeah, but I was in group, so - “

“Even if you’re in group, Mr. Reynolds.”

“Right.  I’ll just uh - “

Dennis turns to leave.  Back to his room.  Alone.  With the door open of course.  No shut doors in this place. 

“Hold on - you do have a visitor.” 

Dennis whips around.  “Oh?”

“Ms. Mandy is on her way up.” 

Dennis sighs heavily, heart dropping into his stomach.  “Right.  Mandy.”

He swallows the disappointment in his voice and heads to the front door of the unit.  A minute later, Mandy is escorted inside by a guard.  Dennis scratches absentmindedly at the bandages on his wrists, then stops as soon as Mandy makes eye contact, acutely self-conscious.  Brian Jr. isn’t here with her.  That’s probably a good thing. 

“H - Hi,” Dennis says awkwardly.

Mandy gives a small half smile.  “Hey, Dennis.”

He leads her to one of the sofas, where they sit stiff and unsure.  Dennis desperately wants to hide his arms, but he’s only been issued two short sleeve scrub tops.  

“How are you feeling?” Mandy asks. 

Dennis shrugs.  

“At least you’re here now.  It’s much nicer, isn’t it?” 

Dennis shrugs again.  Anything is nicer than being shackled to a bed like an animal.  Of course, that might not have happened if he hadn’t woken up and immediately tried to tear out his stitches.

“You’re upset,” Mandy observes.  Dennis scoffs.  “What’s wrong?”

Dennis splutters out half-words.  “I - it’s - besides everything?”

Mandy heaves a small sigh.  “Something specific is bothering you,” she challenges. 

Dennis crosses his arms over his chest, wincing when his stitches pull.  “Mac hasn’t called.”

Mandy frowns.  “Do you want me to call him?”

Dennis shakes his head.  “No.  If - if he hasn’t called, he’s not - it doesn’t matter.” 

“Do you want me to give the number to someone else?  Your sister, maybe?”

Dennis shakes his head again.   “It doesn’t matter, Mandy.  It’s obvious no one gives a shit.”

. 

01.

 

It feels weird to be back in his own bed.  In Philly.  With Mac in his own bedroom across the apartment.  Mac.  Who Dennis really can’t read anymore.  Everything is so different and yet so completely the same.  He’s been gone a long time.

In the morning, Dennis wakes up to Mac cooking breakfast, humming along to some song that’s stuck in his head.  Dennis sulks into the kitchen, still in his pajamas.  All he really wants is coffee, but Mac has made a full spread.   Dennis hasn’t really gotten better at eating, has probably gotten worse really.  He’s lost a lot of weight.

Mac smiles brightly when Dennis sits down.

“Hey, man!” he says way too cheerfully.  “It’s so great having you back, dude.  I really missed you.”  

Dennis tries to smile, but it feels wrong on his face.   He doesn’t know if he believes Mac.  “That why you got the sex doll?”

Mac blushes.  “I mean - essentially, yeah.  I just wanted to, like, pretend you were still here, but everyone thinks I was just blowing my loads in it.”

Dennis feels a genuine smirk trying to force its way into his lips.  “You _were_ blowing your loads into it.”

“I was,” Mac confirms.  “I mean that’s what it was made for, but I - it didn’t start out that way.”

Dennis shrugs and takes a sip of coffee.  “Better than the dildo bike.”

Mac sighs heavily.  Dennis almost laughs.

“You need to get some real ass, Mac.  Hit up The Rainbow.”

“Believe me,” Mac says, shoveling food onto two plates, “that’s all I did while you were gone.  I just - I don’t know how to pick up guys.  It’s hard.”

Dennis swallows hard.  While he was gone, having the worst time of his life, at the lowest he’s ever been, Mac was chasing tail and not caring about Dennis.  “Right,” he says.  

.

02.

 

Dee’s passed out after wolfing down her steak.  Frank is well on his way there.  Charlie and Mac are sitting around talking, and Dennis is lost inside his own head.

They could go home right now, but nobody’s kicked them out yet and everyone’s attached to keeping Dee company, even if she’s sleeping.  

Dennis feels a pang of jealousy.

Sure, the only person he reached out to was Mac, but Dennis didn’t necessarily expect him to keep it a secret.   And he didn’t even need anyone to visit him.  He still isn’t sure he would have wanted anyone to see him like that, but he would have appreciated a call.   

He’d never felt so alone in his life.  Probably why it’d taken so long for him to be released.  All he wanted to do was reopen his wound.  The thought of getting out never had any appeal when he had nothing to look forward to.  Even the thought of returning to his son made him feel sick.  His son would never understand. 

Dennis looks down, realizing he’s picking at his skin.  He stops immediately, pressing the palms of his hands on the tops of his thighs. He worked really hard for months to lessen his self-harm habits.

“Yo, Dennis?”

He looks up, meeting Mac’s gaze.

“You looked tired, bro.  Wanna head home?” 

He looks over at his sister.  She has a hint of a smile left on her sleeping face.  Her hands are still colored with gristle.  She’ll be fine.

“Yeah,” Dennis replies.  “Yeah, lets go home.”

.

03.

 

The withdrawals are terrible.  He’s been puking his guts out for three days straight, and they still have his wrists and ankles tied to the bed.  He’s fucking miserable, and they won’t let him die in peace.   

Mandy is in and out, but Dennis isn’t really present anyway.  He sweats out a fever and struggles through hallucinations.  If they’re going to make him stay alive, couldn’t they just give him a little alcohol? 

Another violent wave of nausea swells inside him, and Dennis uses the cuffs to gain leverage.  He leans over the bed and vomits harshly into the basin a nurse placed there.  He hasn’t been puking frequently enough to warrant the bucket necklace.  

Mandy pops up from her chair while he’s sick, and an arm comes down on his.  “Dennis, be careful!  You’re going to pop your stitches if you keep doing that.”

“God, I hope so,” he groans, leaning back against his pillows.   

“Shhhh,” Mandy hisses.  “Don’t say stuff like that.  They’ll put you in the maximum security ward.”

“Oh, are they not already?” Dennis asks, pulling his fists up.  “I’m cuffed to my bed.”

“Well, if you would stop trying to hurt yourself without them, they’d take them off.”

Dennis moans miserably.  

“When do you think they’ll try again?  I’m resigned to living, and I want them off.”

“Stop saying stupid shit and we’ll see.”

Dennis sighs.  He knows he should be thankful toward Mandy.  He knows that he should be more sensitive of her emotions, but he’s still so damn angry he survived.  He was trying to do the world a favor, and the world rejected it.

.

04.

 

It’s dark.  He isn’t sure where he is but he can feel her bony fingers on his chest, her hot breath in his ear, her body on top of his, holding him down.  He holds back tears and tells himself, “ _I want this, I want this, I want this_.”

He wakes up with a choked scream, shivering violently and sweating.  Dennis feels nausea roll over him in waves, heaving with each breath.  He wills himself to slow them down.

A gentle tap on the door makes Dennis jump, but it’s only Mac who pokes his head in.  “Den?  Are you okay?  I could hear you yelling.” 

Dennis nods shakily.  Mac steps further into the room, squinting his eyes at Dennis.  

“You do not look good, dude.  You only get worked up like this when - “

Dennis groans. 

“Her?” Mac asks.  “Nightmare?” 

“Yeah,” Dennis croaks.

Mac takes a cautious step forward.

“You’re okay, Dennis,” he says softly.  “You’re safe.”

Dennis shakes his head.  His heart is crawling up his throat and he can feel the hot, hissing tears sliding down his cheeks.  “I can’t.  I can’t, Mac.” 

Mac moves forward, but Dennis flinches violently. 

“Don’t _touch_ me.” 

“Dennis, you’re having a panic attack,” Mac urges. 

“I don’t care,” Dennis chokes.  “Just get away from me, Mac.  I can’t - I need - I need you to stay back.  I can’t - I can’t handle being touched.  All I feel is her.”

“Den, this is the worst it’s been in a long time - “

“Mac,” Dennis sobs through clenched teeth. “Please.”

“Let me help you - “

“No,” Dennis growls.  He feels like he’s on fire, and Mac is match.  “Don’t act like you suddenly care.  Get out of my room.”

Mac looks to him, forlorn, but after a second, he turns.  He leaves the door open just a crack but Dennis breathes easier as his footsteps recede to his room.

.

05. 

 

The Range Rover feels like home at his fingertips.  Rick Astley blasts from from the speakers, and the gang sings along all around him.  Dennis doesn’t mind driving all around Philly to take Dee, Charlie, and Frank home.

For the first time in a long time, Dennis feels _good_.  He wonders idly what it is.  He hasn’t been in therapy, and he’s been on these meds for months that don’t seem to be working.  Most of the time he feels weird, distant, like he’s not really himself.  His skin buzzes and everything looks dark around the edges.  He feels numb.  Instead of hurting himself to release the pain, he now hurts himself to feel something, anything at all.

He had a good time the past few days.  Frank called it losing his mojo, but Dennis felt more like he was losing his symptoms.  But good things don’t last forever.  

As Dennis pulls the Range Rover into a parking spot outside his and Mac’s apartment, a wave of nostalgia washes over him.  It doesn’t feel nice.  It feels like regression.

Dennis follows Mac inside without a word.  While Mac goes to shower, Dennis retreats to his bedroom.  

With Rick Astley stuck in his head, Dennis fishes through his night stand until he finds the bottle of pills he brought back from North Dakota.  He turns it over a few times in his hand.

He hasn’t been taking them.  It’s only been a couple weeks, so he can’t be sure there’s a massive difference, but for once, these past few days, he was calm.  He was sociable.  He wasn’t angry or ragey or rapey.  He was regulated and happy.  

Dennis knows that logically, he shouldn’t go cold turkey on his meds like he has.  He knows that he’s only going to return to the existence he held before he was diagnosed - when he was miserable and crazy and didn’t really understand why.  

But he’d rather feel psychotic than numb.

After Mac finishes his shower and retreats to his own bedroom, Dennis hurries into the bathroom.  Door closed and locked, Dennis upturns the pill bottle into the toilet.  He watches each pill fall slowly through the water, sick and giddy. 

He flushes.  

.

06.

 

After they drop off Dee, Mac looks at Dennis with earnest.  Dennis is humming along to Jimmy Buffet under his breath and doesn’t notice at first.  When he does, he does a double take.

“What?” he asks, self-conscious.

Mac shrugs.  “Just - thanks.” 

Dennis shifts uncomfortably in his seat.  “For what?”

“For not leaving me and Dee behind.” 

Dennis swallows.  “Well, it wouldn’t - it wouldn’t have been the same.  We’re a gang.” 

Are they?  It was pretty easy for everyone to leave Dennis behind, to let him rot in North Dakota, to abandon him and when he needed Mac most the most.  Dennis gives himself a small shake.

“Still,” Mac says.  “I appreciate it, man.” 

“I got your back,” Dennis says, but it comes out dry.  Mac doesn’t notice, just keeps talking. 

“You know, ever since I came out, I’ve been trying to be better, nicer.”

“Right,” Dennis says.  He takes a turn a little too hard.  Mac does seem kinder, more compassionate.  He just hasn’t extended that to Dennis.  They’re more distant than they’ve ever been.

“I think you inspired me,” Mac continues.  “When you left, and like, actually dedicated yourself to your kid.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t stay,” Dennis says sharply.  He can’t stop himself.  Everything has been eating at him since he came back.  He keeps trying to suppress it, but sometimes it gets through. 

“You tried,” Mac says softly. 

Dennis scoffs.  “And failed.”

A long silence follows.  He hadn’t meant to get worked up, but now he is.  He’s just so goddamned tired.  Tired of being a failure, tired of being crazy, tired of being alive.

“Dennis,” Mac says carefully.

“Forget it,” Dennis sighs.  He tried to open up already.  Nobody cared.  Not that he expected them to.  Nobody gave a shit when he disappeared off the face of the Earth and slashed his wrists.  Why should they care now?

Mac turns away from him, gaze focused out the window.  Dennis feels a heat behind his eyes and clenches the steering wheel tighter.

.

07. 

 

Dennis is having a bad day.  He knows because he’s been snapping at Mac all afternoon.  He doesn’t know why he does this - takes out his frustrations on the person he cares the most about.  

But maybe he does.  

He’s tired of being vulnerable only to have Mac reject him.  It happened all the time when Mac was still in the closet, and now it’s happening again because Dennis is only getting worse, never better.  

He should have fucking cut deeper.

Mac doesn’t go home with him.  Dennis understands, even if he doesn’t like it.  He’s been crossing too many lines lately, attacking Mac verbally every chance he gets.  It doesn’t even have to be when Mac’s doing something irritating anymore.  Sometimes Mac is just watching a game on the TV, sometimes he’s cooking dinner, sometimes he’s trying his best to comfort Dennis.  It doesn’t matter.  Dennis always detonates. 

While Mac is gone, Dennis drinks.  He hadn’t meant to start drinking the second he stepped foot in Philly again, but he did, and now his sobriety is in the toilet. 

When he finishes his first bottle of wine and doesn’t feel better, he turns to a kitchen knife.  He wanted to stop doing this; he really did.  But it’s too goddamn hard.

Mac comes back late in the evening, tipsy but collected.  He has glitter in his hair, and his mouth is swollen.  He absolutely fucked someone in the bathroom of The Rainbow. 

Dennis is lying on the couch, wildly drunk with bandages on his arms and a sweatshirt hiding that evidence. 

“‘Sup,” he slurs.

Mac barely suppresses a grimace.

“Jesus.  How much have you had to drink?”

“A lot,” Dennis says.  He can see at least three empty bottles in front of him.

“You - you should be in bed,” Mac says at last.  

Dennis laughs, and once he starts, he can’t seem to stop.  His bones rattle with the vibration and he thinks about all the weight he’s lost.  At this point, he doesn’t know how everyone is quiet about it.  Especially Dee.  The gang loves to be nosy.  Why does no one care that Dennis spent months locked away because he couldn’t be trusted to keep himself safe?  He was gone for a year and a half and came back looking like a skeleton.  Does no one really care?

God, Dennis wants more alcohol.

“Dennis?” Mac questions.

Dennis’ hysteria tapers to an end.  

“Fuck off, Mac.”

.

08.

 

He’s surprised they’re letting everyone watch the Superbowl.  He’s less surprised that they’ve turned it into some kind of positive-living, team-building exercise.

Groups are canceled for the rest of the day, and everyone is expected to be in the communal space as long as their sensory input can handle it.  Even if they aren’t watching the game, the nurses want them out there.  They’ve been given a spread of pre-approved snacks and soda.  Dennis absolutely doesn’t want to be here.

He knows that the gang is in Minnesota.  No one has contacted him, but they always talked about going to the next Superbowl that the Eagles played in - even if it was somewhere as lame as Minneapolis.  

The gang is no longer fifteen hundred miles away.  They’re just one state over, and Dennis desperately, desperately wants to be with them.  But he’s stuck in this fucking loony bin.

He thinks about telling the nurses he’s having sensory issues - just so he can go in his room and maybe take a nap to avoid everything.  But some part of him doesn’t want to miss it.  He’s never cared that much about football, but it’s the birds.  

Dennis truly does not expect Philly to win.  But Tom Brady fucks up, and the Eagles take it.  

For a brief moment, Dennis is euphoric. 

He swells with pride for his city and he thinks about how happy Mac must be.  He’s probably shouting at the top of his lungs, Dee clutching his arm.  Charlie is probably doing an absurd dance as Green Man.  Even Frank is probably in on it, yelling with his first in the air. 

Dennis misses them.

They probably don’t miss him.

The next morning, Dennis finds himself escorted to the locked ward again, after using a soda tab to cut his thigh.

.

09.

 

“Dude, I’m tired of your bullshit!  Fuck this.”

Dennis stares at him, astounded.  “What is your problem, man?”

Mac clenches his fist.  “All you do is rag on me!  And I’m done.  What did I do to you, man?  Why do you fucking hate me?  I’m supposed to be your best friend.”

“Are you, Mac?” Dennis asks, eerily calm.

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” Mac asks.

“I don’t hate you for no reason, Mac,” Dennis spits.  “I hate you because you abandoned me.”

Mac’s eyebrows soar up his face.  “ _I_ abandoned _you_?  You fucked off to North Dakota to play daddy with your kid!  And then you failed and came crawling back.”

“Oh, fuck off, Mac.  You don’t know anything.”

“Then tell me!  You haven’t said a goddamn thing about what happened in North Dakota.”  Mac’s anger dissipates at the end of the sentence.  “You came back all fucked up and didn’t say a word.”

“I told you to ask me whatever you wanted!” Dennis shouts in disbelief.

“Yeah, in front of the whole gang,” Mac says, and he has a point. 

“You could have called.” 

Mac blanches.  “I did call you!  I called your cell all the time.”

“Not my cell, you idiot!”  Dennis yells.  “I couldn’t have my phone in there; that’s why I gave you that number.”

“The fake one?”

“No, the - the what?  Mac, I’m talking about the hospital phone.  The number for the psychiatric hospital.  Where I was staying.” 

Mac blinks.  “You - what?  That was a real number?  Why the hell were you in the psych hospital?”

Dennis stares at him, dumbfounded.  “Where the hell else would I be?  I told you to call me there - I - I checked myself in.”

Mac breathes a quick inhale.  “What - ?  Why?” 

Dennis’ eyes go glassy.  Slowly, he removes his watch and tosses it on the coffee table.

“I tried to kill myself when I was in North Dakota, Mac.”  

He extends his arm and Mac feels his stomach plummet.  He’d never noticed, but there’s a long, thin scar running the length of Dennis’ inner arm.  It’s worst at his wrist, dark pink and skin mangled.

“Dennis - “ Mac breathes.  “Jesus Christ.”

Dennis pulls his arm back, crossing it over is chest.  

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Mac asks, voice wavering.  

Dennis scoffs.  “No one would have cared.”

Mac’s eyes go wide, his mouth dropping open.  “Dude - of course we would.”

Dennis cracks a sick smile.  “What did you, and Charlie, and Frank do when Dee wanted to kill herself?”

Mac feels heat rise in his face, and a chill settle in his chest.  “Dennis, I - I’m so sorry, man.”

Dennis avoids his eyes.  “Yeah, well.”

“And - and I’m so sorry I didn’t call you - I didn’t realize.  I - I thought you were just trying to get me off your back with a fake number so I wouldn’t bother you.”

Dennis’ eyebrows knit together.  “No - no, Mac.  I wanted you to have that number.” 

“Why?”

“I thought if anyone might care, it would be you.”

Mac swears under his breath.  “I fucked that up, huh?” 

Dennis swallows hard, falling into silence. He wants nothing more than for Mac to wrap his arms around him and hold him tightly.  Dennis’ mental health has always been a heaviness between them, but this is something new. 

“Why did you come back to Philly?” Mac asks.

Dennis doesn’t look up from his lap.  “I got new meds in the hospital.  I was calm, but - but I didn’t feel like me.  I felt weird.  So I came back because I thought it would help.  It hasn’t, so - I stopped taking them pretty soon after I came back.”

“I noticed,” Mac says carefully.  “That you were doing bad - are doing bad.  Like, twenty-fifteen levels of bad.  Worse, probably.”

“Yeah,” Dennis agrees.  His eyes are still glassy.

“You should go back on your old meds, Dennis.”

“No,” Dennis says harshly.  “I was still on them when I tried to - to kill myself.  They weren’t - they weren’t working.”

“But don’t you remember how you were before you left?  You were doing good, Dennis.  You - you stopped hurting yourself, and - and you were calm.”

“That was before I left.  And then they stopped working.”

“Well, this - whatever’s going on now isn’t working, Den.” 

“Don’t you think I know that?” Dennis snaps.  “I’m so fucking tired, Mac,” he sighs.  “Most nights I go to sleep hoping I won’t wake up.”

“Dennis - “

“I don’t know what to do.  I don’t want to live like this anymore, man.” 

Mac reaches out a gentle hand, settling his hand on Dennis’ knee.  “Is this okay?” he asks.

Dennis nods.

“Look, let’s - let’s call your old psychiatrist, Den.  Here in Philly.  He’ll know what to do.  And - and I’ll go with you to the appointment.”

Dennis doesn’t say anything.

“We’ll call him in the morning, okay?”

Dennis nods, swallowing hard again.  “Okay.”

.

10.

 

Mac pushes the door to the apartment open. He finds Dennis on the couch in sweatpants and an old sweater that’s too big for his skinny frame.  His eyes look red.

“Hey, man,” Mac says quietly.  “Charlie told me that you were having a bad day.  He said you skipped out on the parade and went home.”

“Yeah,” Dennis confirms.  He’s resting his head against his hand.  An extra large bandaid peaks out from under his sleeve.

Mac doesn’t move.  “Is there anything I can do?”

Dennis shrugs.  “No, not really.”  He sighs and pats the couch next to him.  Mac takes a seat.  “What’s going on with you?  You’ve seemed really fucking depressed, man.”

“Me?”  Mac asks.  “What about you, dude?”

“Yeah,” Dennis says.  “Well, that’s why I can tell you’re fucked up about something.”

Mac sighs, leaning back against the cushions.  Dennis turns his head to keep an eye on him.

“I came out to my dad.”

“What?!” Dennis all but shrieks.  “Holy shit - what happened?”

A sick smile splits Mac’s face.  “He didn’t take it very well.”

Dennis’ face falls.  “Shit.  I’m so sorry, man -“

“No, it’s okay,” Mac says quickly.  “I let it out, you know?  It felt good.  And - and Frank - he _cried_ , man.” 

“Frank?” Dennis asks in disbelief.

“Yeah.  He came up to me after I did the dance I’ve been working on you know?  And he was crying.  He hugged me.”  Mac adds, voice soft. 

“Damn,” Dennis whispers.  “Frank’s never cried over or hugged me.”

“Oh, shit,” Mac says, wincing.  “Sorry, bro - “

“No, no,” Dennis says quickly.  “I don’t care.  As long he did something good for _someone_.”

“Yeah,” Mac agrees.  He looks over to Dennis, who’s smiling gently, but is riddled with red-rimmed eyes and scars on his wrists.  He thinks he understands why Dennis hurts himself now.  He has to let all the pain out.  The only reason it doesn’t work is because he’s trying do it the wrong way.  “Dennis?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for telling me about what’s going on with you.  What happened in North Dakota, and why you came back.”

Dennis freezes.  “Oh - well, yeah.  Thank you for listening, man.”

“Of course,” Mac says in earnest.  “I really care about you, man.”

They lapse into silence for a moment.  Mac thinks about ordering pizza.  He’s hungry after his emotional rollercoaster of a day.  He opens his mouth to ask, but Dennis interrupts him.

“Mac?” 

“Yeah?” Mac asks.

“I care about you too, you know?  I love you, Mac.”

Mac feels his heart burst.  “Don’t fuck with me, Dennis.  I’ve had an emotional day.”

“I’m not fucking with you,” Dennis says.  He’s peering directly into Mac’s eyes with a softness he hasn’t seen in awhile.  “ I - I don’t know what it means yet when I say that, but what I do know is this - being away from you guys for a year and a half was really, really hard, but it hurt the most not having you.  I really think I’d be dead if it weren’t for you, Mac.”

Mac’s crying.  He doesn’t even realize it at first.  He only notices because his voice is wavering when he says, “Thank you.  I love you too, Dennis.”


End file.
